


Crossed Connections

by Detroitbydark



Series: Crossed Connections Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mechanic!OC, Medic!Reader, Miscommunication, The Bad Batch - Freeform, holodating in a Galaxy far far away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detroitbydark/pseuds/Detroitbydark
Summary: Tech discovers that the net is a very small place and that he doesn’t know everything.
Relationships: Tech/Reader, Wrecker/OC
Series: Crossed Connections Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664725
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based off the assumption that a galaxy far far away has their own form of internet dating. It’s crack. id love to write for these two in the future but It’ll likely just be scenes and things I find fun as me and fully functioning works of fiction just don’t mesh well.

This should be the calm before the storm, the time of preparation and meditation before the next mission. For most of the Bad Batch it is. 

Crosshair, feet propped on the ships console dismantles and reassembles his sidearm before moving on the more formidable sniper rifle.Tech sighs loudly as his fingers dance over the datapad in his hand. He’s been doing it since they jumped to light speed. Usually he’d be rattling off a steady stream of facts on the planet they were heading to, its inhabitants, dangers, precautions needing to be taken. Now he was silent and that was not the clones default.

“Alright, I’ll bite “ Crosshair grumbles from the co-pilots seat. Tech looks up, shrugs and then sets the pad down, relieved his brother had finally taken the bait. The sniper continues to slowly work the oiled rag over his rifle.

“It’s nothing…”

“You’re a fragging awful liar” 

Crosshair didn’t care. Really. But…of all his vods he was least annoyed by the team’s resident engineer/translator/tech genius. So, here he was, digging at the other clone in an attempt to get him to talk.

“It’s her-“

“Wait” Crosshair sets the rag and rifle down on his lap. His eyes narrow. “You mean to tell me you’re still messing with that GalaxyMance stuff?”

Tech runs a hand over his closely cropped hair rubs roughly as the partial hawk. “Yeah, maybe… yeah.” He admits, avoiding the snipers focused stare.

“And you’re still hung up on that anonymous nerfherder.”

“She’s not a…” Tech defends trailing off as he narrows his eyes. Rutababy was not a nerfherder. 

He was sure of it. 

Yeah, pretty sure. 

Mostly sure.

He was trying to play it cool, choosing not to do the digging he was more than capable of. He’d matched with Rutababy a few days after he’d set up the (very much against regulation) GalaxyMance account for fun. He’d just wanted to see if he could do it. If he could stay ahead of the brains at the GAR. 

It was boredom, really. He wanted to play with routing his activity and bouncing his signals through different channels. It was just supposed to be a bit of a challenge. 

And then he’d gotten a match. 

He didn’t even have a profile picture up, for kriffs sake, just a picture of a scrawny Loth Cat he’d pulled from the Holonet. Apparently she liked Loth Cats.

They’d been sending messages back and forth since, he’d even talked to her over comms once. Her voice had been soft and smokey. She’d apologized and said it was often like that after work, that she talked so much at her job that she often found herself borderline hoarse afterwards. 

She’d been a good listener. When he rattled on and on she seemed to even like it, asking questions that only fueled his descent into random, obscure subjects more.

Of course, some things they didn’t talk about. She didn’t know he was a member of the GAR and she sure didn’t know he was a clone. She didn’t press him for more than he’d give and he respected that about her and didn’t press her for more either. 

Tech huffs. 

She was definitely not a nerfherder.

He picks his datapad back up and refreshes the screen. Still nothing from her. This was the longest he’d gone without hearing from her since they’d matched weeks ago. He wondered if she was-

Crosshair barks out a laugh that startles the younger clone from his thoughts.

“Yeah, Tech-vod, I’m sure she’s not” the sniper quips out the entirely unoriginal profile name his vod had chosen. Tech seems to relax and Crosshair smirks as he goes in for the kill, “she’s probably Trandoshan. You like lizards right?”

Hunter steps onto the bridge and it’s only because of his heightened senses that he barely misses the screwdriver flying toward his head as he steps between his men. It’s snatched out of the air, his face slowly turning toward Crosshair. The sniper gives him a lazy grin. 

“Good timing Sarge”

Hunter’s eyes trail back to Tech. He looks flustered. His skin was paler than most clones, including the rest of the Bad Batch, and it only accentuated his reddened cheeks more. It was an uncommon sight for, arguably, the most level headed of the small unit. An eyebrow arches above heavy tattoos.

“I’m fine Sarge.” Tech tries to explain.

“His girly friend is ghosting him”

“SHE’S NOT-“

“Enough!” Hunter’s voice is sharp. “You’re excused” he growls over his shoulder toward the sniper.

Tech can hear Crosshair grumbling as he gathers his rifle and supplies.

“…ruining all my fun”

Hunter waits til the soft whoosh of the bridge door before he says anything.

“You know nothing good can come of that” he points to the datapad. The usual growl of his voice tempered. “We’re different Tech, but we’re still clones and clones don’t get happy endings”

Tech’s jaw tenses as he nods, “there’s nothing wrong with pretending, Sarge”

Hunter nods, “is that what you’re doing? Pretending to be excited when you get the new notifications? Pretending to walk on air after you talked to her? Was it pretending when you let Cross gaude you into chucking a wrench at him?”

“It was a screwdriver” Tech corrects, petulant with arms crossed tightly over his armor.

“Yeah, ok, you know best, don’t you? Smartest of all of us. Incapable of making a bad decision.”

Tech feels something akin the shame twist in his belly. Hunter was just trying to look out for him. He wasn’t poking like Crosshair, he wasn’t out right laughing like Wrecker had done.

“I hear what you’re saying.”

Hunter looks less than impressed, “Yeah? We’ll see”

——

You’re running late.

Again.

You hurriedly button your shirt as you skitter around the corner, your badge swiping you through locked doors as you go. The laces of your left boot flop against the duracrete.

It was the third time this week and your CO was going to have your head. You push through the medbay door just in time to see your CMO, Slash, a serious looking clone with a permanent twist to his mouth, begin the morning meeting. Your jaw slams shut, incisors clicking together as you find a chair at the back of the assembled group. You ignore the looks that get flicked your way.

“So, we’ve got some new assignments coming our way.” He begins, his gaze traces over you and you cringe when he raises a brow in your direction. You mouth ‘sorry’ and hear the scoffs and smothered giggles of a few of the other civvie medics. Slash doesn’t waste another look your way and you feel insanely lucky that he must be feeling lenient this morning. You couldn’t handle another dressing down like you had received a few days ago.

You were a good medic. A damn good one but, by the force, the rest of your life was a mess. You’d always felt that leaving Kiros was the right choice but the loneliness you felt had only become more acute during your time in Coruscant. Where you’d once stood out too much amongst your tribe, you seemed to not stand out enough amongst the swell of people and species. Togruta were not wild about individualism and you stood out just enough to be off putting. 

On Coruscant, your pale pink skin and montrails did very little to make you stand out in the hustle and bustle of daily life at all. It was hard for you to make friends, hard for you to connect. It was the same problems from Kiros all over again. It was you, not them.

It’s why you’d bit the blaster and signed up for GalaxyMance. It felt silly and ridiculous, but you were desperate to feel a connection to somebody, anybody. You’d been on a few dates too but nothing ever panned out. Some of them had loved your “exotic look” while others had taken one look and decided they’d pass. No one tried to get to know you. 

Until Tech-vod.

You’d clicked on his profile after an awful day in the bay because of the silly Loth kitten he’d chosen as an avatar. Without much thought you read through his profile and sent off a cursory introduction and then thought nothing of it until he’d sent you a message back a few days later. It was funny, less of an introduction than a vomiting if facts on the Loth cats. It was cute. You’d never seen him but you were sure he was too. Pretty sure…

“Y/N”

You startle as CMO Slash barks your name.

“Sir?” You greet. Someone to your left snickers. Slash pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve missed everything I’ve said, haven’t you?”

You don’t respond. You both know the answer and there’s no use lying. Your hand strays to one of the lekku hanging over your shoulder, fingers toys with it the way you’d done since you were a child, a tell to your parents about the state of your nerves. 

“You’re being reassigned off world” 

His words catch you by surprise. Your jaw gaps but nothing comes out. Sure you’d been late a few times and, yeah, maybe you hadn’t clicked with your team so well, but reassignment?

“Sir, I-“

He holds his hand up, “it’s not for discussion. This comes from higher than the likes of me. Transport leaves at 1600.”

You swallow hard, “where too?”

“Fort Anaxes.”


	2. Interlude I

“It’s cute, little guys got a lady friend” leave it to Wrecker to over simplify everything. “Maybe she can knock some of the shine off ‘m”

Hunter grunts. They each had their own opinion about Tech’s extracurriculars.

Wrecker doesn’t see anything wrong with it. It never hurt a clone to get their dick wet.

Crosshair tries not to think about it. As long as Tech did his job and he didn’t have to hear any of it go down it wasn’t his place to say anything, unless it was to get under his skin.

Hunter doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t like the risk involved. He doesn’t like the new fixation. Nothing good would come of it. Clone Force 99 was different but even within it Tech was different from his other brothers.

Shinier.

He’d been shifted from Kamino directly into the Bad Batch. He hadn’t been filtered through the general ranks and seen the way the other clones had looked at them like defects. If a Reg couldn’t handle a difference in one of their brothers he wasn’t sure a civvie could either. Why let his brother set himself up for disappointment?

“I think she’s Trandoshan” Crosshair says out of nowhere with a sideways grin. “It’d serve him right. She’d eat him alive.”

“They don’t eat human-“ understanding crosses Wreckers face as he barks out a deep laugh, “Nah, she twi’lek because he’s got more luck than any of us. Probably one of those dancers over at 79’s.”

The big man remembers fondly a twi’lek with the prettiest eyes and pale green skin dancing on a platform. Yeah, that was the kind of girl Tech could pull.

Crosshair gives him a skeptical look, “like you’ve been to 79’s.”

Wreckers good eye focuses on the sniper “I’ve been there once” he says proudly, chest puffing as the sniper rolls his eyes. He looks to Hunter to give confirmation, “I have, tell him.”

“And it was requested you don’t come back.” Hunter confirms with a knowing smirk.

“Listen, I can’t help that the Shiny’s arm was flawed. You challenge me to arm wrestle and I expect you’ve got good working parts.”

“Well if he had ‘m before he didn’t after” Hunter chuckles darkly.


	3. Part II

Tech swore he’d seen something as the transport had skimmed the tree line in an attempt to cruise under Separatist radar. A dark shape, springing from through the deep red treetops, attempting to keep up with the Havoc Marauder. 

That’s how Hunter found himself an unwilling student to Tech’s lecture on Anaxes’ native fauna.

“Did you know fyrnocks typically roost in tree canopies? They’re almost entirely nocturnal and are incredibly light sensitive but they don’t sleep underground.”

Hunter nods vacantly, knowing that once Tech started on a topic it was best to let it run its course. Wrecker and Crosshair were both asleep in the cargo bay. It was upto one of them to keep their brain occupied while his battery wore down. 

Even exhausted, Tech’s mind never seemed to slow, jumping from one topic to the next. Exhaustion only seemed to bring to surface the more obscure things he fixated on. At least he wasn’t focusing on languages this go around. 

Last mission Wrecker sat with him for over two hours as he’d slipped in and out of Shyriiwook. Wrecker, never to be confused with an intellectual, had smiled and nodded to his young vod before he’d finally burned through enough energy to pass out over the ships console.

“It’s thought that the species as a whole springs from a single mother entity.” Tech looks up to see if Hunter was still listening “it’s all very fascinating.”

Tech types away at the small datapad secured to his vambrace. “There’s even some chatter about them being linked to the dark side of the Force. Can you imagine? I mean, from what I understand of the Force-“

“Tech” Hunter interrupts gruffly “save it until after debrief with Commander Cody?”

With a flip of the wrist, the younger clone closes the pad. “Of course Sarge, just thought it was interesting” 

“It is but we’re all running on fumes at this point. Not sure any of it is sinking in.” He taps at his temple and Tech nods.

“Understood.”

“Plus, we’re only a few klicks away from base and I need you to organize your part of the debrief.”

Tech nods before flipping the datapad back open and beginning to splice together the data he’d collected during recon.

——

You’ve been on Anaxes for two weeks. It still felt foreign, sleeping in the depths of the caverns the base had been built in and around was seriously beginning to mess with your internal clock. No windows to show you night or day, no warming from the sun or cooling as twin moons rose into the sky. You’d never been so thankful for your chronometer. It was hard to sleep as you adjusted to the new environment. While it left you exhausted you also had yet to be late for your shifts already up before you chrono had to wake you. You’d consider it a win.

You were weary of seeing clones on the edge of death, mangled and passed off to you like they were no more than broken droids, only their brothers and a few of the generals seeming to worry about their well being. It wasn’t right. You’re heart hurt and while the other staff had either their clone brothers or other civilians to cling to you seemed to be left to your own devices, as if everyone else could just sense that you weren’t like them. Like on Kiros.

Your people believed only the strong survived. If you couldn’t keep up the Togruta left you behind. Your belief in the value of life made you an outsider within your own tribe. You believed life needn’t validate itself to matter. Simply existing in the first place gave it meaning.

It was a highly unpopular opinion.

The sheer number of casualties you saw roll in daily was another change from your post on Coruscant. Generally, by the time you’d seen the troopers there they’d been stabilized and needed supportive care. Anaxes brought you the worst of the worst straight from the front lines. The GAR was taking mass losses, entire squads destroyed in the blink of an eye without warning. You’d lost count of the number of Clones who’d taken their last breath in your presence. You’d never experienced anything like it on Coruscant and your training had done nothing to truly prepare you for the crushing feeling each loss brought to you and the rest of the medical staff.

You swish your mug around before bring it to your lips taking another swallow of caf. It had gone cold long ago, forgotten when the last emergency had rolled through the doors. You fantasized about a hot mug of it to soothe your throat. You kept up a steady stream of talk when you worked. Your patients always knew exactly what you were doing and your colleagues knew exactly what you were seeing. You’d heard some other medics comment on how annoying it was but you were never going to be accused of not communicating effectively, not when troopers lives could depend on it.

A side effect of hours of talking were often a scratchy, dry throat and a hoarseness that silenced you for the rest of the day. It was ok. Outside of the medbay you were never really sure what to say. Your confidence in your professional skill did not cross over to personal affairs. 

“Y/N?” It was one of the clone medics, Kix, from the 501st. He was amiable enough and seemed easy to get along with the few times you’d worked together.

The empty mug was set aside, to be forgotten till a later time when desperation drove you to more of the swamp water that sat bubbling bitterly in the break room.

“I’ve got a squad coming in off a recon run. They’re due for a once over so the powers that be are going to send them down after debrief.” Kix looked on edge as he spoke and you cocked your head trying to figure out what he was saying between the lines.

“You want me to do it?” You knew how to do what he was asking, you just weren’t sure why he was asking you of all people.

“Uh, the boys in 99 don’t much care for other clones.”

That was a new one.

“I can do it Kix” you nod reassuringly. “Don’t worry, ok?” A knot was beginning to tangle in your stomach. You brush off the feeling and try to give the clone your most reassuring smile. 

Clones that didn’t like other clones? You hadn’t heard of such a thing outside of the Coruscant Guard. 

Those guys were dicks.

Kix seems relieved, running a hand over his face roughly “I owe you. I’ll have them sent over to Exam 3 when they’re done?”

“Make it 5” you correct “they’re still getting blood off the floor in 3 and 4”

—–

Crosshair is spitting mad by the time The Bad Batch is dismissed from Cody’s debrief and Tech can’t figure out why. He just had to acknowledge that pissed off was simply the sniper’s default setting. Tech figures he’s mad no one was willing to take the bait and give him the fight he was looking for.

To his left Hunter seemed as relaxed as Hunter could be, ever vigilant eyes scanning the halls as they traveled. 

Per usual, Wrecker was all smiles (if maybe slightly menacing ones) as they entered the lift down to medical.

Tech was pleased. He’d been told the intel would be useful. No one had insulted anyone. No punches had been thrown. It all seemed pretty good as far as he was concerned. All they had to do now was do a quick medical check and they were good to go for at least a solid day of rest before their next assignment. he falls in behind the others while they queued into a single file in front of him, each dipping into the room in turn for their scan. Hunter is in and out before Tech can blink, same for Crosshair. 

Wrecker was never the best behaved for the medical staff. He just didn’t like medical. Tech couldn’t blame him. Hunter and Crosshair wait for a few minutes, making sure they weren’t needed to calm the big man down, before the excuse themselves to the small barracks the four of them called home.

Tech uses the wait to browse the holonet for anything that might pique his curiosity and bookmarks a couple things to look into once he could crawl into his rack.

When Wrecker pops out of the exam room with a sucker tucked into his cheek some twenty minutes later without any shouting following him, Tech takes notice.

“It’s stormfruit, man” Wrecker hums around the sucker “I like this one” He tips his head back toward the exam room as one big mitt cuffs Tech on the shoulder, knocking him back a step as he passes by. 

Tech doesn’t bother to take his helmet off when a bright voice calls “Next!” 

He’s greeted by the sight of a dimpled Togruta smiling up at him from her spot on a stool.

“Hey you must be…” she glances quickly at her datapad resting on her crossed knee “Tech?”

The voice is exceedingly familiar but he doesn’t know the face as she motions to the table. His feet stutter step as he moves further in the exam room, taking a seat on the table the composite of his armor clanks loudly. 

“Long day?” The medic asks and he nods, eyes narrowed as he rifles though his mental files. He knew that voice.

“You’re not gonna give me trouble like the last one, right?” She starts, “it took me half a dozen lollys to convince him to let me scan him. I’m starting to think he played me, ya know?”

He nods again.

“You don’t talk much do you? Nexu got your tongue?”

Tech huffs quietly, flipping his visor up to view her without the incandescent screen in the way.

“I think you’re the only person that’s ever said that.” He chuckles.

She beams at him, squinting and searching his face.

“Yeah? I won’t complain about being your first.” She teases before her cheeks, already a rich color, flush brightly. When she smiles nervously he sees the quick pearly flash of her incisors. He liked the way she smiled at him. It makes his stomach flip in a vaguely familiar way.

That’s when the data points come together. The realization hits him.

He’d often wondered what Grutababy looked like, curiosity only reaching a fever pitch after their conversation on the comms. He’d lay awake at night, while his brothers slept and try to piece together what she might look like, cursing himself for never once asking for a picture. 

His mind would run through the many sentient species he was familiar with as he’d try to place the voice from their lone conversation to it it had become a game. Twi’lek, Mirialan, human… Togruta?

It makes sense now, her profile name. Grutababy. Really it shouldn’t have taken a genius level IQ to figure that out. 

He watches her lekku sway gently as she moves through the room. Her skin, somewhere between red and pink, reminds him of a sunset he’d once seen on an outer rim planet, the name of which he’s since forgotten. 

The white markings of her people cross from one temple to the other, circling her eye like a mask. Others travel in soft swooping lines from the outer corners of her eyes down, crossing at plump lips and fading out at her chin. A small diamond shaped mark rests above each brow. 

Her eyes are a pale, icy blue. The overall effect is… stunning. 

She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined (and he’d tried).

“This may sound weird-” she hums” her fingers fumble for her scanner, nearly dropping it off the counter. Frowning, she taps it against the heel of her palm when it refuses to turn on.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

Tech winces, wants to tell her that there was no evidence that treating a device like that would make it work. On the contrary it would often-

The scanner buzzes to life and a triumphant smile lights her features.

“Like, I was saying, it may sound weird. I just get the feeling….”

Tech swallows hard.

She lets out a nervous laugh and waves it off, “Nevermind, ignore me. Not enough sleep or caf and I’m imagining things”

Something akin to disappointment filters through his chest as she rubs the back of a montrail nervously. He wonders if he should tell her? She interrupts his train of thought with a deep breath and the moment has passed. She’s all business now as she adjusts the scanner in her grip.

“So Trooper, how about we get your scan done and you can go get the sleep that I’m not.”


	4. Interlude II

From: Grutababy

To: Tech-vod

I’m sorry I’ve been absent lately. I’m a bad friend. Things have come up and well…surprise! I got a job transfer! (Also not a requested transfer so there’s that). Honestly I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. It’s been two weeks. I’m tired. Really really tired.

I know we don’t normally talk about these things but I feel safe writing them to you so you (for better or worse) get to hear them. Unless you don’t want to hear them in which case I’m sorry and ignore me.

So work, right? Do you ever just have a bad day? And than it doesn’t end. It just bleeds into the next and the next after that?

I feel so out of my depth here. My heart hurts. I’m drowning and no one knows, and if they do, they don’t care. I just want one person to talk to. I guess we’ve never talked much about details of our lives but I wonder if it’s something we could do? If not, just pretend I never wrote this and send me a vid of something cute to cheer me up.

——–

You stare at the blinking cursor. You hadn’t talked to him since Coruscant. Would he still want to be your friend? Was that what he was. You rub your thumb along your fingers, your palms are clammy. This was silly. It was just a guy (if they were even telling the truth in the first place), just an anonymous person on the net. If he didn’t respond back it was no problem. Really. You were no more alone than you already felt.

With a deep breath you hit ‘send’


	5. Part III

“What are you doing?”

Crosshair has been watching Tech sit propped in his rack for the better part of an hour. His nose is buried in his datapad. The small bit of his head the sniper can see is lit by the soft blue of the screen. The light accentuates the deep, dark circles forming around his eyes. He’d mentioned sleep, once before he started, how he needed it. Than he seemingly forgot. 

The constant tap of his fingers against the screen is starting to wreck Crosshair’s cool.

“Personnel files” Tech answers absently, missing the way his brother’s brows arch as he sits up in bed. Propping himself on one arm the sniper stares openly.

“Are you-“ Crosshair shakes his head, eyes narrowing “are you supposed to be _perusing_ those?”

Tech doesn’t answer. Lost in post-stim fatigue and so focused on what he’s doing, He’s in a world of his own.

Laying back down, Crosshair stares up toward the ceiling. Why the kriff was he hacking his way through the GAR personnel files?

He feels a headache beginning to throb through his forehead and behind his eyes. He didn’t get paid enough for this.

Commander Cody had been very clear, the Bad Batch was getting mandatory R&R. Two days. No one was particularly excited about it but at some point you had to follow an order and Cody seemed to appreciate what they were capable of so, rest it was.

It had only been eight hours. By Crosshair’s calculations they should still have at least another six before one of them was going stir crazy and that was Hunter’s job, not Tech’s.

Whatever. This was **not** his responsibility. He was going to sleep.

Accept, he wasn’t.

Jumping down from his rack and ambling across the room Crosshair snatches the datapad from from the oblivious clone. He blinks rapidly, eyes adjusting before they narrow.

“Cross…” he warns lowly, “give it back.”

The sniper turns his back and starts scanning the open file. His dark eyes widen.

“Is this the medic from earlier?”

“I’m not messing around. Give me the datapad.” The tone of Tech’s voice has Crosshair giving him a skeptical look over his shoulder, turning toward the genius rising from his rack. He keeps one eye on his vod and the other on the datapad as he scrolls down the page.

“Why are you _researching”_ he sneers the word, “the medic from today?”

“It’s nothing. Professional curiosity. I just wanted to make sure her credentials were-“

“Banthashit” The sniper barks “she was cute. I get it but… wait…” he notes dramatically. He hadn’t noticed the minimized tab when he’d first looked. “What’s this…”

He steps out of the way as Tech lunges at him. The younger clone makes a pained 'oof’ as he misses his intended target and slams into the ferrocrete wall. Crosshair uses a booted foot to hold him back.

“You back on the Grutababy train?”

Tech glares.

“I got a transfer” Crosshair reads the message and a mockingly high voice “I’m out of my depth…” he frowns as he reads the rest silently. 

Two weeks. He glances back at the GAR file. The little medic had arrived on Anaxes two weeks ago. The profile name and…

Tech glares from the floor not making an attempt to get up.

“Well shit, man…”

“Well shit what?” Wrecker asks as the barracks door slides open, barely acknowledging the scene in front of him. His bed flexes and squeals as he plops down on it.

“Tech’s Grutababy was the medic in the bay today.”

“No shit?” Wrecker purses his lips “Not bad. I like ‘em more my size but she’s cute.”

Crosshair lowers his foot and Tech scrambles to his own, dusting off his blacks and grabbing the pad back.

“So are you gonna write her back? Let her know your the scrawny little vod from earlier?” The big man asks.

Tech’s eyes dart from Crosshair to Wrecker. He presses the heel of his fist into his eye. A low growl leaves his throat.

“You two are gonna stay out of this.”

“Sure thing” Crosshair grins, “not gonna tell your little _Ik’aad_ a thing.”


	6. Interlude III

Wrecker likes to think of her after things go sideways. When his vods and he are back on the Marauder breaking down weapons and taking stock of injuries, he lets images of her flash in his head.

The only female that’s ever made an impression for more than a couple hours.

How long ago was Felucia? Time ran together as the war drug on.

Pressing his his palm against the durasteel separating him from the black of space he lets his fingers spread out and span as far as they can. He remembers how she’d do the same thing every time they’d land. She’d have a welding mask on the top of her head, a wrench in her hand and an astromech at her side. She’d run her hands over the ship, coo to it, like she could tell where her “baby” was hurt by touch alone.

She’d get to work before the thrusters had even cooled, hair bouncing as she went. Nearly as tall as Hunter and Crosshair she stood out in the crowd But for someone as big as she was she moved over the body and wings of the ship like she was walking on air. So light on her feet sometimes he thought she had some sort of mutation of her own she didn’t know about.

In the hot, stagnant air of Felucia she seemed to enjoy the hard work when other mechanics were begging for the Seppies to overrun them and put them out of their misery. Not her. He remembers how her coveralls would hang around her waist, the arms tied like a belt. He remembers the was her white tee shirt damp with sweat would cling to her like a second skin, molding over her chest and soft tummy. She was thick from top to bottom (kriff he loved watching her bottom) and she didn’t care one bit what anyone thought about it. He’d spent more than a few post mission hours seated in the hangar bay cleaning his weapons and watching her. He just couldn’t get enough of… everything about her.

And those pigtails. Always pigtails, sometimes high on her head, sometimes dusting along her neck. Braided or loose, it was always pigtails. He’d asked her once what was the deal.

“They make me happy.”

That was the thing he liked to remember most, the thing that made his chest burn hot when he thought of her. You couldn’t not like her.

Crosshair had called her perky.

Tech said ‘effervescent’ (because he would pick some stupid long word).

Wrecker thought of her like starlight, bright and reliable, a guiding light. You couldn’t feel bad talking to her and if you did she’d know. Get her excited and she’d hug you until your bones popped. Hunter never denied her one and Crosshair begrudgingly accepted a few with a small smile on his face. The last one he got he hadn’t wanted to let go. She’d just let them know about her transfer and, as always she looked for the bright spot (and threatened them all with death if they hurt her ship). She’d wrapped her arms around his neck when she’d said goodbye and he hadn’t wanted to let go. He’d wanted to pull her into the ship and tell her all the things he saw in her and beg her to see the same in him.

He likes to pretend, after things go sideways, when his vods and he are back on the Marauder breaking down weapons and taking stock of injuries, that when they get back to the hangar the pretty mechanic with the killer smile and bouncing pigtails is waiting for him with a hug and a soft admission of “I missed you.”


	7. Part IV

From: Tech-Vod

To: Grutababy

I’m going to say this one time only. 

You are not a bad friend. 

You may be one of my only friends. I have my brothers but you are different. You chose to talk to me and each time you do it is a bright point in my day. You are important to me. 

I imagine your job is stressful. Is there anyone you can talk to? A co-worker maybe. If not, have you thought about finding someone to talk to in addition to me? Find someone who looks friendly. Maybe a stranger in the lunch room. Walk up and say ‘hello’. I can’t imagine someone would ever turn down a chance at your company. 

Bear with me? Work is crazy. Big assignments coming up. Killer deadlines. I am going to try my to write back as soon as I can. If you do not hear from me for a time, know that it is not you. Work just has me a system away. I want to share with you. Please believe me. I will start sharing things with you. What I do is… hard to explain. 

——

“Tech. finish up the love letter. We’ve got work to do" Hunter growls. Tech quickly hits send as the ship enter atmo. He maneuvers through noxious black clouds, the Marauder jostling with the occasional updraft of superheated air. Tech lets his focus shift from Y/N to the task at hand.

“Will your lady love be waiting on the tarmac when we get home.” Crosshair’s voice echos through the comms. Tech taps the controls and the ship banks left, hard and fast. The sniper tumbles into Wrecker’s gonk. 

“I think It’s gonna be a rough landing.” Tech quips grinning “It seems now would be a good time to buckle in.”

Wrecker laughs.

Crosshair runs a hand over his helmet as he unfolds himself. “You don’t say?” 

“Enough fellas” Hunter eyes shift from Tech to Crosshair. The sniper is slowly climbing to his feet, adjusting his armor. Wrecker holds his hands up.

“I didn’t say anything, Sarge .”

With a deep breath Hunter brings himself back to center. Sometimes, it was like dealing with younglings.

The Marauder drips suddenly finding a pocket of dead air. They lose 15ft of altitude in a matter of seconds before its decent stops. In unspoken synchronization, each clone tightens their safety belts. The smell of the rotten sulfuric smoke that hung in the air was already permeating the ship and they hadn’t even popped the doors yet.

“Remember” Hunter begins “This is recon only. We are NOT to initiate contact. Do you hear me Wrecker.” The big man rolls his shoulders and grumbles lowly.

“I got you Sarge.”

“Good. I need you on point. Cross?” The sniper looks up from last minute check of his rifle. The ship lands with a soft jostle, the heat already rising as its switches into standby. “I want you up top somewhere. Eyes in the sky.”

“Roger that Sarge”

“Tech you’re with me, need you to do a little slicing”

Techs eyes wrinkle in delight before he flips his visor down, “As always, you speak my language.”

“Alright boys, easy does it” the four clones queue up at the door “following Wrecker in three… two… one…”

The mission goes belly up in under an hour, less than two klicks from the ship they run into Seperatist forces.

———

“Y/N!”

“Sir?” You look up from where you’ve been tasked with counting supplies. Boxes of bacta and dressings lay scattered at your feet. You haven’t gotten nearly as much done as you’d hoped. I message from you Galaxymance match has had you distracted all day.

Kix motions for you. You drop everything and jog over.

“I’ve got the Bad Batch coming in hot” he begins before you’ve even come to a stop at his side “their birds banged up and they’ve been through the ringer”. You nod as the clone continues to explain the situation. “I need you to lead up the exam. They did well with you last time.”

“Sir?” You question. Though you’d worked with the Batch one other time a week back you weren’t sure you were the right one to take over their rotation. 

“That’s an order.” He clarifies “if it looks like it more than you can handle or anyone comes off that ship missing a limb you call in back up. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” You needed to clear a bay and find a med droid ASAP.

You’ve only just got everything ready when your patients all stumble into the room. Crossfire is propped between Wrecker and Hunter. Tech hobbles in behind. The Med droid, 2-1B, hums to life as you point to the table.

“I need him there.”

“I’m fine” the sniper grumbles as Wrecker unceremoniously dumps him onto the table. His skin looks paler than the last time you’d seen him and his eyes struggle to focus as you flash each with a light. He looks like shit.

“Try that one again later. Ok?” You glance around to the teams engineer still standing near the door and point to another exam table. “You. There. Helmet off.” He stares in your direction, stupid visor still flipped down obscuring whatever look he was giving you. “I said now, Trooper” irritation flares in your chest as he hesitates. 

Wrecker laughs as he leans up against the wall, you glance his way as 2-1B begins scanning Crosshair.

“Easy Ik’aad. He took back to back blasts. It might take him a minute”

“Ik’aad?” You hear Tech make a noise across the room and Crossfire, still dazed, barks out a weak laugh.

“Just a term of endearment for our favorite medic, Ik’aad” the sniper warbles.

“Would you children let her work” Hunter interrupts, voice like gravel. You nod thankfully. Tech is pulling his helmet off as you round on him. He pushes back on to the exam table, sitting straight up as you begin your once over.

“That’s better. Now let me get a good look at you.” You start with a simple scan, no internal injuries. Vital signs are satisfactory even if his heart rate is up a little bit.

“Easy Tech. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You try to soothe quietly. He doesn’t move as you reach up and slip his goggles off his face. He’s so stiff sitting there in front of you so you try to lighten the mood as you check his pupillary response. His skin is cool as you cup his cheek to hold him still. “Anyone ever told you, you’ve got pretty eyes?”

Crosshair makes a choking sound and you round on him only to see the Loth cat-like grin crossing his face. “We’ve all got the same eyes. Clones remember?”

“Well maybe you’ve all got pretty eyes than?”

Wrecker laughs. “I like you.”

“I can die happy now” you grumble. Hunter bites back what sounds to be a chuckle. You switch spots with 2-1B.

“The clone’s scan has shown no injuries requiring further treatment at this time, though a concussion can not be ruled out without further medical studies.”

“Thanks Too-Bee.” You give Hunter a questioning look and he seems to read your mind. What the kriff happened?

“The Seps got the jump on us, they laid out two concussives before we were able to do anything about it. Cross took the worst of it. Tech got part of the second one going to give him back up.”

“It’s ok, Ik'aad" That name again, coming from Wrecker “Got rid of every last clanker I could get my hands on.“ His chest puffs up proudly and you reach up to pat it as you skirt by.

Grabbing the holopad off the wall you begin charting your findings and filing the medical report. The sniper had a concussion, you didn’t need “further studies” to tell you that and the way Tech was moving he likely had a sprained ankle-

“This Clone appears to have torn a peroneal tendon” 2-1B drones

So a torn tendon it was. You glance up at Tech and catch him watching you. The soft way his eyes follow your movements makes your heart flutter and than the look is gone and he’s tapping away at the pad in his vambrace leaving you confused at the momentary feeling. Moving around the room you search a pair of drawers, finally pulling out what you were looking for.

“Looks like you boys have earned some bacta shots and a few days rest.”

———

“Ik’aad? Ik’aad?!” Tech is seething, voice coming out in a hiss as he glares ahead of him. Crosshair chuckles tiredly at his side.

He adjusts his goggles, taking a moment to squeeze the bridge of his nose between two fingers. The sensation of your skin, warm and alive against his is burned into his memory. The way you’d tried to soothe him when you thought he was scared was sweet. If only you’d known the truth. This was getting out of hand fast. The warning look Hunter had given him before he and Wrecker had excused themselves let him know, the Sargent agreed.

The pair continues to shuffle slowly down the empty corridor towards the barracks. Tech’s got a headache rapidly growing and his ankle hurts like hell. He leans into his vod for support, refusing to look his way as he continues to grumble in disgust. The sniper can’t leave well enough alone.

“Should we have called her Grutababy?”

Tech wonders if Hunter would care if his sniper turned up dead.


	8. Interlude IV

Rest and relaxation makes Hunter itchy. Too much time unfocused has his senses going haywire. His skin crawls. His muscles twitch. He’s not happy.

He’s task oriented. Mission focused. Senses honed to a sharp edge on Kamino with only one thing in mind. He just didn’t do ‘fun’ in the normal way. That’s why when Commander Cody insisted he and the boys take a few days respite in Coruscant he’d flinched. Not a full on facial spasm, more like a tick.

Followed by a string of expletives.

The boys needed it he supposed but he didn’t need to be excited about it.

Crosshair had disappeared off the transport with a promise to meet back at 0800 promptly. Hunter didn’t ask. The sniper would come back with pep in his step and his focus intact. It was the same song and dance that happened every time they hit the planet.

It was more than he could say for his other boys. 

He looks across floor of 79’s and watches Wrecker. His heavy gunner had been given probationary admittance as long as his CO was present. That was how Hunter found himself, sipping tonic water and being a glorified babysitter and one of the busiest nights of the week in the most overstimulating cantina in the inner rim.

The music is loud. So fragging loud that Hunter’s already prepared himself for the headache that would rear its ugly head at any second. How did people listen to this garbage? The kriff happened to good taste? It’s suffocating and exhausting reminding himself that he needed to breath but the focus on the air sweeping into his lungs and out helps him center. He can almost get past the feeling of the bass line rattling in his marrow and the scent of Regs soaked in cheap tauntaun splash-on cologne the later of which makes his stomach turn. It takes every bit of training he’s ever had to keep himself in the moment and not let the waves of stimuli overwhelm him. 

Wrecker didn’t have the same problem. Hell, Wrecker likely wouldn’t remember his own name in the morning (a few hours if he kept pounding back drinks) let alone those of the three Twi’leks around him. Strike that three Twi’leks and one human who was now making her way from the Bad Batches youngest member to to the big guys orbit. Tech had been doing it all night. Girls thought Tech was cute, big brown eyes, soft smile, approachable look. He did well for himself. Usually. Even Hunter’s hearing wasn’t enough to hear precisely what the engineer had said over the shouts of Regs and the thrum of music but he got the jist of it. A gentle smile and a point in Wreckers direction let the ladies know who was a better option for the night.

Tech, as if sensing his Sargents observation, turns his head. Hunter raises a brow in his direction and the engineer shrugs before draining the rest of his drink and getting up. Wrecker doesn’t seem to notice as he excuses himself, a few pretty girls in his lap did that to him.

Tech siddles up to his stool. “That bad Sarge?” It’s knowing question and his half smile shows that he knows how much Hunter is suffering.

“Shut up, Tech”

The younger clone takes up a stool next to him and waves to the bartender for a drink.

“Want one?”

“No”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs turning to the bartender. “It might help”

Hunter knows it won’t.

“Tavraki whiskey” The Clone orders smoothly.

The bartender laughs, “try again, Tavraki is too rich for our blood.”

Tech sighs, “Cheedoan than?”

The bartender nods and moves to fill the order.

“What’s bothering you?” Hunter cuts to the chase. He was piss poor company at a club like 79’s and everyone knew it. No one sought it out. 

“Why do you-“

“You’ve been passing every pretty woman that crosses your path off to Wrecker. He’s got a damned harem at this point.”

Tech gives their muscle an appraising look. He’s now got three women in his lap with two others sitting close by. One rubs his head and he happily leans into it.

“They’ll be no living with him tomorrow” Tech notes.

“Exactly, so why don’t we cut to the chase and you tell me about this holonet girl.”

The bartender appears and places the whiskey in front of him. Tech slides his credits across the battered bar top and takes the glass. He empties it in one swallow.

Yeah, that was an easy one to call.

“It was just supposed to be a bit of fun” he begins.

Hunter laughs. Every experience with a woman he’d ever had started the same way.

“And now?”

“That’s the hard part-“

And that is how Hunter adds counselor to his growing list of responsibilities.


	9. Part V

“No wonder you’re so tiny.” Wrecker prods at Tech with a meaty finger. The smaller clone shrugs his shoulder, scrunching his face in frustration as he leans away. It’s not an easy maneuver to make in the over-crowded mess hall. He makes a point to avoid leaning into one of the boys from the 501st. Wrecker laughs.

“That means eat, Tech” Hunter orders. 

Tech tries not to acknowledge him as he finishes reviewing a set of partial Dreadnaught schematics Commander Cody had sent to him for an upcoming mission but when the Sargent clears his throat he doesn’t have much of a choice. He shoots Wrecker a glare. The big clone looks smug as he begins working on his second bowl. 

“Some of us don’t need to eat half a bantha just to function.” Tech grumbles taking a mouthful protein and vegetables from in front of him.

Wrecker huffs and Crosshair rolls his eyes. 

“On your six” 

Both Tech and Wrecker look up as the sniper’s eyes focus on a spot between their shoulders. Hunter’s ever present look of concern deepens.

Wrecker glances quickly over his shoulder, the flash of bright skin and deep blue gives him a clue as to who it is. 

Tech swallows hard and pretends to continue his work. As the small medic nudges in between them. Wrecker doesn’t move, leaving Tech to scoot closer to the sour faced trooper from the 501st. Oh yeah, this was going to go well. 

“Hi guys!” The medics bright voice waivers. “Can I sit with you?”

It’s a question but she’s already placed firmly between them. Wrecker smiles knowingly as he peers over her montrails at him. They both feel the nervous energy vibrating through her. She bounces her thigh, firmly pressed against Tech’s own as she busies her hands with shuffling her tray into place. 

He doesn’t miss Crosshair’s raised brow or the slow slide of his eyes from Y/N to him.

Hunter clears his throat. “Can we help you?”

To her credit, Y/N’s smile only falters momentarily. In any other company it might be missed.

“I just thought I’d find someone to eat with today and you’re the winners. Yea…” she finishes, her fingers wiggling in the air weakly before her eyes fall for a quick second. 

“We don’t typically do dinner dates” Crosshair pushes his empty bowl away. Tech watches her muscle through her nerves. She really was trying. Even presented with the snide remarks from Crosshair she wasn’t running off. 

“Did you bring candy?”

Y/N looks up at him as Wrecker asks. He has a silly grin plastered to his face and her smile is instantly better. Tech feels a surge of jealousy. He should be the one getting her smiles. Wrecker was stealing his smiles-

“No, but I just got some sent from off world. Sour starcherry…” she teases. “It’s not my favorite but beggars can’t be choosers-” 

“I’m confused” Crosshair interrupts “Why are you here again?”

Under the table Tech brings down the heel of his boot across the snipers. He shrugs lightly when the flash of pain lights Crosshair’s face. The clone’s eyes narrow. Their dinner guest doesn’t seem to notice.

“I…” she starts slowly and picks up speed as she speaks “I have a friend and he said that I should find more people that I could talk to because it’s good to have someone in real life that I can do that with-“

“And we’re the ones you chose?” Ever patient, Hunter can’t help the question. “I’m sure you’ve probably noticed we’re not the kind of people you want to be associated with.” He makes a point of looking down the table at the heads of the other clones, members of 501st, that turn away quickly.

She pokes at the small amount of food on her tray and glances at Tech who is very much trying to keep his eyes locked on his datapad- even if he’s momentarily forgotten what he was supposed to be looking for..

“I’m not someone people normally associate with either so I figured-“

“That we would what? Adopt you?” Crosshair asks. Tech wants to deck him. He’d been in a mood lately and it was getting old. Fast. 

Color drains from her face at the snide comment. Tech watches something akin to panic flash in her pale blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just-“

“Crosshair” Hunter’s voice is low, his reprimand sharp. The sniper’s jaw loosen, his toothpick dipping over his lip before his teeth snap together. He pushes away from the table without looking at anyone. He shoulder’s into another trooper as he makes he way through the crowd. Hunter shakes his head.

Wrecker, so often the one to revel in an explosion is the one to diffuse this one. 

“So how much did you get in?” He asks, changing the topic back to Y/N’s stash. “also,” he points at her tray, “you need to eat your dinner. She’s tiny like you, Tech. Maybe you could be friends and not eat together?” 

Tech’s cheeks flush red and he grunts quietly as Y/N looks over, curiously. He tries to think of something to say but comes up with nothing so, like a dick, he turns away from her curious stare and back to his datapad.

Wrecker laughs. 

“Eat _Ik’aad_ ” he encourages again, “and then we can go raid you stash?”


	10. Interlude V

The Havoc Marauder, like something from a dream, is the first thing Kellye’s eyes fall on as the transport touches down. The troopers and other civilian volunteers around her begin grabbing for duffles and packs but Kellye can only stare at the familiar insignia of Clone Force 99 that greets her like an old friend.

The ship looks like she’s been loved hard in the nearly two years since they’d last crossed paths, a few more dents and character added but Kellye was much the same. 

When she’d left Kuat on loan to the GAR from RHE she hadn’t known what she was in for. She’d wanted to get her hands dirty in a way she hadn’t been allowed to in years and she’d wanted to see the galaxy. Rothana Heavy Engineering hadn’t been keen to let one of their prized engineers go but Kellye hadn’t taken no for an answer. She sent periodic reports back to her higher ups in regards to the wear and tear she was seeing, new problems that arose with old designs along with proposed upgrades and fixes to their current ones. The arrangement seemed to work for both for the time being, RHE got field data and she got to touch, live, and breath ships in a way she hadn’t done since she was a teenager in her father’s shop back on Corellia.

It hadn’t come without a price. She slept little these days, often waking well before her scheduled reporting time and finding excuse after excuse to stay after her time to cut out. Her hands were scarred from stray welder sparks and slipped tools. Her fingers were calloused from hours of tedious work. Nightmares came and went accompanied by a jagged pink scar that ran up the back of her right calf like a seam of a stocking from a low level crash she’d been lucky to walk away from during the campaign on Umbara. 

She developed a caf addiction that rivaled that of any commander she’d met. It wasn’t uncommon for her to reheat the durasteel mug she carried with her on top of a turbo a half dozen times throughout the day, the caf becoming a thick concentrated sludge darker than a black hole and twice as strong that she’d happy slurp without a second thought.

She ached most days, first thing in the morning or when a storm was on the way. The feeling settled into her bones and, like the machinery she loved, only eased off once she got going, joints warmed and lubricated. She wondered if the Havoc Marauder was the same. Did it take a little extra convincing to get her running these days? Did her frame creak and pop when she took off? Was the girl feeling as worn down as the Kellye was beginning to feel?

The chill of the evening air hits her as the transport door slides open and she pulls her coat tight around her neck to tamp it back.

She’d heard Anaxes wasn’t bad and she was looking forward to being able to confirm or refute the claims made by other colleagues and troopers she’d talked to about the fort. Right now all she can see looking across the small airfield in the fading light is rocks. Miles and miles of craggy cliff and boulders. A monochrome sea of red as far as her vision allowed. 

Her boots echo down the durasteel grating as she hikes her duffle up higher on her shoulder. She hears greetings called out as she disembarks. Familiar buckets pop up throughout the hangar, the details and paint as distinctive as a strong brow or a crooked nose she’d see in the civilian sector. Most of the mechs had worked together at one point or another. Her eyes dart around willing the familiar plastoid armor of, who she’d always consider, her boys to pop up. She tries not to be disappointed. The Marauder was here. That meant Hunter and the boys were around somewhere. They would catch up soon enough. 

Her heart flutters at the thought. She makes a mental note to claim the Havoc Marauder as one of her charges for the duration.

“Nakama? Is that you?”

Kellye turns to a recognizable set of blue Jaig Eyes moving toward her.

“Rex!” She greets brightly wrapping the clone Captain in a tight hug. One of his boots falls back, bracing himself against the onslaught of her affection. Kellye was tall, her height rivaling that of the trooper. She was solid and strong from heavy work and a stubbornness that very rarely allowed her to ask for help. 

“How have you been?” She knows in an instant by the stiffening in his shoulders and the way he moves her at arm’s length that 

“Have you eaten anything yet? Let’s go to the mess. Get a bite while they figure out who you’re going to bunk with?” He offers.

———

By the time she gets to the door of her new room she feels a weight pressing between her shoulders, pinning her with grief, the loss palpable. Rex had stumbled through an explanation of what she’d missed since she’d last seen the 501st.

She prided herself on her ability to remain upbeat but it was hard when fewer bright spots were to be found with each passing day.

She keys in the passcode she was given and the door slides open with a soft hiss. A Togruta woman looks up quickly, slamming a datapad to her chest, arms covering it protectively.

“Oh… hi?” She manages to stutter out. “Are you my new roommate- I mean I guess if you have the code you must be or otherwise…” she stops and closes her eyes. 

Bless. 

Kellye watches her drag in a deep breath.

“I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She holds out her hand, one arm still wrapped around her datapad. Kellye is quick to take it.

“Kellye Nakama” she introduces.

“Welcome to our room!” Y/N immediately springs into a breakdown of the room as she slips the datapad under her pillow. When she stands the peaks of her montrails barely come to Kellye’s shoulder. “We’ve got a desk. I don’t use it much.” 

Kellye follows along as she points toward the barren piece of furniture. 

“And the ‘fresher of course. I mean- of course we have a fresher to share” Y/N rambles on quickly “we’ll have to figure out a schedule or” she waves her hands “something. I’ve never had a roommate before and I’ve been super excited to meet you but I’m-“ she pauses like she had earlier and takes another breath before gesturing around the room. “The finest Anaxes and the GAR has to offer.” Her smile waivers with nerves that she can’t hide.

“Ah yes, top of the line. No scrimping for us” Kellye quips back, spinning slowly to complete her assessment of the room. It was the same as any other she’d ever seen. 

“I like your hair!” Y/N enthuses. 

Kellye can’t help but smile, fingers grazing along one of the two braids plaited close to her head. “Thanks, It’s a trademark I guess.” 

Y/N sits on her bed then quickly jumps back to her feet. She darts like a mouse droid toward the opposite wall. 

“Have you eaten yet? I keep part of my candy stash in the closet.” She says moving to the lone closet and retrieving a box from a low shelf. She drops it on the desk, making a low thunk. “You’re welcome to help yourself. Just leave the star cherry ones alone, I keep those for my friend”

Kellye nods quietly, the little Togruta was undoubtedly awkward but she seemed nice enough.

“I’m not much on sweets but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Y/n beams up at her and Kellye can’t help but smile back, the weight from her conversation with the 501st commander earlier feeling just a little bit less.


	11. Part VI

Y/N glances over at the ARC Trooper perched carefully at the edge of the examination table. He sits stock still, skin as pale as Durosian marble. It is only the near silent whir of the drives in his right arm that let her know he’s more than a statue. Even then, the Techno Union’s wizardry with his prosthetic is so good that she doubts a human ear would pick it up. 

She wants to spit every time someone mentions Wat Tambor’s name. The socket arm and it’s connections are a marvel of Techno Union know how but it rips at her heart. They’d created such a device, a prosthetic that could offer quality of life to those in need, only to use it to further progress the Separatist agenda. 

“You’re quiet today” she notes leaning her hip against the counter behind her as she takes him in. Echo is pale still, unnaturally so, but his cheeks aren’t nearly as sallow or as sunken as when he’d first arrived on base. His eyes are brighter, if not guarded. He’s stopped twitching when she touches him. 

Being away from Skako Minor was doing well for him but he needed time and that wasn’t something the GAR was likely to allow. She’d heard whispers of him joining a mission with Clone Force 99 very soon.

On Coruscant she’d not been immune to talk of clone rights and she was quick to agree with those who spoke out for them. It made her uncomfortable that all her work was only to prepare a newly liberated prisoner of war to be forced right back into the field. Wrecker had tried to explain that this was the life they were, quite literally, made for. The life they trained for from creation. It didn’t sit right still.

“They refer to you as _Ik’aad_.”

She cocks her head at the question. It’s the first thing Echo has said since arriving in her part of the bay for his daily once over. They’ve been doing this song and dance for nearly a week now. Like any good clone, the healing process was progressing remarkably quick and his injuries were already fading. Granted those were ones Y/N could see. 

He was sober, quiet, speaking little most days and then without end on others, as if the words had built up during his time in stasis and they had to spill out or risk causing him to implode with the weight of them. 

While he hadn’t offered her many smiles he also didn’t seem to dislike her company. She could work with that. 

His observation though is curious. Of course, she knew who _they_ were. For better or worse she’d earned more than a few looks as information about the Bad Batch had trickled through the base’s ranks, and with it her name attached to the unit.

She spent more than enough time with Wrecker for a very specific set of rumors to begin circulating. The thought of the whispers she’d heard the other day in the mess made her cheeks burn. It hadn’t done much for her socially. Her new roommate seemed immune to them though and that was a comfort she was glad to take. The ARC trooper didn’t seem to mind much either, though he had his own bits of gossip that followed him. 

“I suppose they do”

Y/N glances at the bleak reminders of his time under corporate control. The cold, alloy of Techno Union metal sticking out starkly against Echo’s skin.

The neural access ports, unfortunately, had been woven so tightly into the neural pathways of the Arc Troopers brain that there was no way to seperate the two. The ones that had connected his lungs and diaphragm while in stasis were no better. They were to be permanent fixtures. While Echo had joked just the day before that some of his vode would be jealous of the look she had a feeling he was not _fond_ of the modifications.

Rex had been a frequent visitor during his first few days in the medbay, almost constant in his devotion to his vod. Surprisingly, so had some of her other charges. Hunter had stopped by a handful of times and both Wrecker and Crosshair had frequently sat with him to distract while she worked. Today was actually the first day he’d shown up for his treatment and not had an escort. The ARC Trooper had left an impression amongst the Bad Batch and only time would tell if that was a good thing or not. 

Y/N moves slowly to start his vitals. 2-1B, the medical droid was kept on standby when Echo was under her care. She’d discovered early on that too much time under the droids watchful eye and its inability to take things at the troopers pace had a tendency to exacerbate the former POWs anxiety. Y/N was ok working without Too-bee’s assistance and taking a more languid pace if it made her patient comfortable.

“Do you know what it means?”

Y/N glances up at the trooper. “I’ve never thought about it really” she says, turning to gather supplies to clean and redress the few deeper lacerations the ARC trooper still had, places where there had not been enough skin to pull together to suture. 

She makes a small gesture with her fingers and Echo begins peeling his shirt off. It gets hung on the edge of his prosthetic and he struggles for a moment, frustration evident before he takes a deep breath and slowly uncouples it from the alloy. He folds the black shirt neatly and places it atop his armor as Y/N finishes laying out supplies on her work table and rolls it next to his perch. Slipping on gloves, she begins peeling spent bacta patches off, holding the skin taught as she does to ease the tug on his skin. “So, are you going to leave me in suspense or are you going to tell me?”

Echo likes the way she smiles at him. It makes what she does easier. He tries not to flinch as she removes the last patch. 

The engineers, the doctors, _Tambor_ those who’d performed his modifications had looked at him like anything other than a science experiment, a tool, a profit margin. Y/N sees him as a person. She accommodates him. She’s learned quickly his ins and outs and she doesn’t push. She treats him like an individual. And she smiles. She smiles so bright and full that she lights the room, like star shine on a dark night. Her presence soothed him. She made him feel like he had choices and the power to make them.

“Baby. They call you Baby” the first time he’d heard the words slip from Wrecker’s mouth he’d done a double take. Then he’d heard it from Hunter, and finally, Crosshair. It was a term of endearment he hadn’t heard from a clone before. The way they treated her was soft, even Crosshair who was rough and callous to the other troopers, the _Regs_ , seemed to thaw, if only slightly, for the little Togruta.

Y/N shrugs, “Hmm?” She hums plopping onto a stool and spinning around a few times before she rolls in front of him and offers him a shining smile, pearly incisiors peeking out. “That’s cute. You gonna call me _baby_ too?” She teases.

Echo feels his cheeks heating. “Could I? Would that be… strange?”

Y/N shrugs again, “I don’t think so” she says motioning toward his bare chest. She takes a piece of bacta soaked gauze and waits for his nod before she begins cleansing the minor lacs and scrapes. Her touch is light as she moves. Echo’s eyes drift shut. Touch was still… touch was something novel and when he was given a bit of softness he was going to soak up every bit he could.

 _“Ik’aad_ ” he tests the name out. He’s spoken so little Mando’a since his capture that it feels foreign on his tongue, not unpleasant, more like a long forgotten friend he needed to become reacquainted with.

When his eyes open back he’s greeted by an impish grin. “See that’s not so bad.”

He’s not sure if she is talking about the wound care or the nickname. He nods anyway as she pats the areas dry and applies fresh bacta patches, fewer than the day before.

“You know what I’ve got to do now?” She questions softly. 

_This_ he did know and he feels his shoulders tense at the thought. The metal ports implanted along his skull and back had been placed prior to going into stasis. They allowed the Techno Union access to his memory’s as well as a means to keep his respiratory system functional. The skin surrounding the ports had healed but had never had a chance to callous or grow accustomed to the push and pull that movement caused. His freedom and sudden increase in activity had caused sores to develop around the ports themselves, the skin raw and chaffing. The doctors had all been in agreement that with time the skin would toughen and the sores would heal but in the interim it left him uncomfortable and required daily tending.

Y/N- _Ik’aad_ , he corrects mentally, rolls her stool slowly around the exam table, letting her feet flop in front of her and pull herself around. He’s tense but he can’t help the weak tug at the corner of his mouth at her antics, she looks up and catches his eye with a knowing grin.

She stands, forgetting the stool in lieu of a more upright position. “Why do you think they call me _Ik’aad_?” She asks conversationally, trying out the word for herself, as one hand falls to his shoulder Her movements allow him to telegraph where here next touch would land. She did it the same way each time. Top to bottom. Left to right. It bred a sense of familiarity and, on the worst days, gave him points of reference for how long it would take. In the beginning she’d talked him through each step of the process until he’d asked her to stop. Since then she’d tried to distract him. They both knew what she was doing but neither found fault in it so she continued her chit chat and he continued to listen. 

Y/N begins moving a fresh piece of bacta moistened gauze around one port, cleaning the crust and debris that clung to the wound away. Echo tries to focus on her question and not the sting of the antiseptic as the gauze washes away the dried flakes of drainage.

“You’re small” he starts “like, you-could-fit-in-my-pocket-and-go-on-missions tiny”

Y/N giggles as she continues to work, “is that so?”

Echo shrugs, “you’re kind of adorable too-“

“Not you too! You sound like Wrecker.” she growls playfully, “If you start telling me you want to pinch my cheeks I swear, Echo…” she threatens without any real threat.

“Nothing like that. You’re like- like- “ he looks for a word. He knows there’s one that fits but it eludes him. “I think you just have a way about you that makes them feel…” he shrugs.

“Well if you don’t know what they’re thinking what do you think? How do I make you feel?” It’s an honest question, born of genuine curiosity. Like the clones in the Bad Batch, he kept coming back to see her when any medic, clone or civvie, could do what she was doing.

“You make me feel warm.” He says without hesitation. “For so long everything was so cold, distant and you’re-“ he snaps his fingers and Y/N startles fingers pressing into the flesh where she was beginning to work at the next row of ports. “ _Vod’ika_ ” he says firmly flinching at the press.

“Translation Echo?”

“Uhh, little sibling. Sister or brother. It’s interchangeable.” He explains. A smile splits his face knowing he’s finally placed the feeling she drew out of him and what he assumed the other as well-

“Y/N?” The question is followed by a sharp knock to the wall nearest the thick curtain that separates the room from the rest of the med bay. 

Echo and Y/N turn toward the familiar voice. Y/N gives him a questioning look and he nods.

“Come on in Tech? Is everything ok?” Y/N places a hand to Echo’s bare shoulder as she tosses the used gauze in a nearby bin. The clone watches curiously as Tech’s helmet, visor flipped up, flicks ever so slightly from Y/N to where her hand rested than back again.

“I- I didn’t know you were busy. Everything’s fine.” He clarifies quickly. Even modulated, his voice is just a touch higher than Echo is used to. “I just wanted to see- I just thought I’d swing by”

“We were just finishing up” she turns back to Echo and motions to his shirt. “You good to gear back up”. He pulls the blacks on silently as he watches the two.

Tech doesn’t call the medic _Ik’aad_. It’s the first time Echo’s noticed. He also realizes Tech is rarely around when she is. Echo watches the engineer take a step into the room and again his narrowed eyes flick back to where Echo is seated.

“What can I do for you?” She questions peeling away gloves and turning toward the sink to wash her hands. Echo notices for the first time something different in the tone of her voice, almost shy.

“Wrecker said” he hesitates “you were getting ready for your FAS cert test? I came across a study guide that might help, if you want to use it that is?” He asks holding a pocket drive between gloved fingers.

Though he’s the one supposed to be here, Echo suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something. It’s like watching one of the shinies back in the day at 79’s approach a woman for the first time. It’s a dance with no music and Tech has two left feet. 

Y/N reaches up and toys with the end of a lek as she turns around. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Y/N is more quiet, far less verbose than Echo has become accustomed to.

“It really would be helpful. Maybe-“ she pauses. Glancing down, she seems to steal herself before her eyes travel back back up to the other clone “maybe you could help me study?”

The ARC trooper finds himself silently rooting for the other clone. She’d baited the hook and thrown it out there. The way Tech’s eyes widen behind his goggles and the near panic that flares up is not lost on Echo.

“I’m- I’m really busy actually” Tech spits out quickly. 

Echo cringes as they both seem to deflate. He wonders how neither sees it in the other.

“Oh, ok. That’s- that’s really thoughtful of you.” Color flares in the togrutas cheeks “Again. I already said that didn’t I?” Her hip bumps against her tray table as she moves and she makes a small disgruntled noise as bacta splashes across her tac pants. “Kriff” she curses silently as she looks down and wipes uselessly at the spreading patch of wetness.

There’s towels on a rack along the wall and Echo watches Tech look at them but when he doesn’t move Echo does.

“Here, _Ik’aad_.” He grabs two and hands her one. Her face is flushed when she looks up. Embarrassed. She gives him a weak smile.

She presses the towel against the wetness soaking into her pants. “Have I told you you’re my favorite patient?”

“No. But I’m glad to hear it” 

Behind him he can hear Tech shift from foot to foot. Echo had given him a chance to come to her aide and he’d dropped the ball. When he glances back he catches Tech’s narrowed eyes. Was that…? No, it couldn’t be-. 

Echo can see the look in the other clones eyes and it isn’t particularly generous. He arches a brow back as Tech drops his visor.

“I’m going to leave this here for you, Y/N” Tech announces looking past Echo and setting the pocket drive down. 

Y/N waves him off. Avoiding eye contact as she balls the towel up and throws it in the hamper.

“Thanks. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.” She says puffing out a frustrated breath through pursed lips. Her attention goes back to Echo. 

“So now that my uniform is soaked, do you have plans for lunch?”

The ARC trooper shrugs, “I hadn’t planned anything. I’ve got to get some range time scheduled in later but I’m free for a bit.”

“Good. I’ve just gotta run by my room and change and then you can take me to the mess. You can keep telling me about how amazing I am.” She teases weakly. Her eyes widen as she looks past him and notices Tech still standing in the doorway.

“You can come too if you want but I understand if you’re busy”

He hesitates for half a second and Echo is sure he’s going to take her up on the offer. He can see it in the way he leans forward, the way his left hand clenches and unclenches that he wants to. 

“Maybe another time?”

Y/N barely manages a halfhearted “yeah, sounds good” before the engineer is turning on his heels and making his escape.

“I don’t think he likes me much,” she notes quietly after he’s gone.


	12. Interlude VI

**“G** ot a surprise for you Wrecker.” Y/N says. The little medic bounces on the toes of her boots, hands clasped together and grin from ear to ear. “But you gotta come back to my room to get it.”

Wrecker’s brows skim his nonexistent hairline. If he didn’t know any better he’d say the little Torgruta was flirting with him. While it was flattering she wasn’t really-

“Oh, Maker!” She snorts out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side with such force that her Lekku bounce merrily, “Really? Not that!” 

She laughs as he hoists another crate onto the high shelf in the supply room. She’s wrangled him into helping her store the latest shipment from Coruscant. Really though it hadn’t taken much, he liked spending time with her.

He shoots her a shit eating grin, “Oh, come on! We’d be good together. I’m quite the catch…”

Y/N gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, hands falling to her hips, “so I’ve heard”. Wrecker had a reputation that preceded him. She’d heard… things whispered between women who worked in store keeping and logistics. She’d seen the way he drew more than a few female gazes as he walked through the mess. He wasn’t her cup of tea but he certainly had his own fan base. She could- appreciate what she saw.

Wrecker gives her a wink of his good eye as he turns and hoists the last of the supplies. The crate would have been a struggle for her to lift, let alone stow on the high shelf but the clone moved it as if it were nothing. He hadn’t broken a sweat once since he’s arrived.

“Is that everything? I can do more.”

That’s what she loved about him. Yes, he was exuberant- sometimes to his own detriment, but with that came the urge to be helpful. The little downtime he seemed to have he spent split between his vode and the medbay.

Because of the extra muscle he offered, she’d been able to reconcile and store away the newest shipment of supplies as well ration off some extra time studying for her FAS later. 

She was nervous for the first aid specialist test. You could only take it once a year and she _needed_ to pass it. If she passed it would look good on her application for school late. More importantly, right now, it would allow her access to the small medical encampments at the rear of the front (and away from managing the supply room and boo-boo duty).

Wrecker had even tried his best to be helpful with her studying, reading over the studyguide Tech had given her and quizzing her at random while they’d worked. He may not have always pronounced things correctly but she was able to get the just of it. It was good practice.

She was anxious to pass. She was growing bored stuck on base while the more experienced (already certified) medics got to spend time in the field. Sure she wouldn’t be right at the front like the clone medics but any little bit of action had to be better than what she was doing now. 

Just the thought of what was riding on the test had her distracted. Luckily, Wrecker didn’t seem to mind repeating himself. 

“-Is that everything?”

Y/N gives a short, flustered laugh waving him off, “sorry, I’m in another world today.”

Wrecker shrugs it off, “It happens. Do I get my surprise now?”

Y/N flashes a toothy grin as she flips the lights off and the pair head toward the door. “Do you ever!”

——

Wrecker likes spending time with _Ik’aad._

She didn’t shy away from him or the others because they were different. She treated his squad mates like she would any other clone. She didn’t care that Crosshair was a dick, that Hunter had no sense of humor, or that Tech could barely look her in the eye. She spent nearly as much time with Echo as she did with all of them combined and he’d walker in on the two sitting quietly, drinking caf more than once. She never pushed, simply say quietly until their newest addition felt like talking. 

She just went with it.

She was warm, welcoming, always with a friendly word when able but also ready to switch into work mode when the situation called for it. 

And damn if she didn’t get things done when she was in work mode. That’s what impressed him the most the first time they’d met. 

He knew he wasn’t the easiest to deal with when it came to medical. He didn’t like needles and he didn’t like being prodded at. None of the Bad Batch really did. That didn’t phase _Ik’aad_ though.

She’d looked him over for a minute, like she was looking for the chink in his armor and after she found it she worked it til she got what she needed. In his case, it was plying him with lollies til she was done doing his post mission physical. At the time he hadn’t even realized what she was doing.

It was impressive. 

And delicious.

The walk from medbay to her room was a short one and she chatters to him as she goes. He smiles and nods, interjects a funny story about one of the guys that makes her laugh. She’s got a nice laugh. In another world he might try to pursue her but he saw the looks she gave Tech when his _vod’ika_ wasn’t looking. 

Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he had it in him to break up whatever it was the two had started. Which reminded him. He needed to give Tech the talk. Again. 

As far as Wrecker knew, he still hadn’t come clean with the medic and if he kept it up something bad was going to come of it. She deserved better then that.

“-and then I said “you know, statistically 9 out of 10 injections are in vein…’”

She pauses glancing at him with an anxious smile, “you get it? _In vein_. It’s a medical joke” she explains. He does get it after a minute and laughs. She had all sorts of jokes like that once she warmed up to you.

“You should tell that one to Tech” he can’t help but try to push the two together. She was cute and Tech already had an in if he just came clean with her. They could be good together. It seemed straightforward enough. Why guys like Tech and Cross liked to complicate things just never made sense with him. 

Straightforward was the way to be.

She shrugs, “I’m sure Tech has more important things to do than listen to my stupids jokes.”

“And I don’t?” He asks coming to a stop in front of her door. She flashes an impish grin as she punches in her code. “Besides Tech loves jokes!”

He’s not entirely sure that’s true but he says it anyway.

The Togruta wastes no time in moving into the tiny room she shared with her new roommate and opening closet. He laughs as she pushes up onto the balls of her feet to grab a box. She holds it close to her chest as she beams proudly. 

“I got some new contraband ” her voice sing-songs. 

Ik'aad had a sweet tooth that rivaled his own he wondered sometimes if she ran on the stuff like others did caf. She was an absolute addict but who was he to judge? She shared and she had the best stuff. He didn’t know how she managed to get her hands on the sheer amount and variety but he didn’t care to look a gift fathier in the mouth.

The sound of the ‘fresher door opening has his little _vod'ikas_ smile faltering, her bright eyes shifting behind him. 

“Kel-“

“Wrecker?”

That voice…

He barely has time to turn before he’s collecting an armful of woman. His hands fall to her hips steadying her as her arms go around his neck. The hug gives her away and Wrecker goes from confused to delighted in a split second.

“I didn’t know you were here! When did you get here?! How long have you been here?!” The questions spill from him as she finally loosens her grip around his neck and steps back.

Kellye. His Kellye- well not his but…

It’s then he realizes the state she’s in, her hair is damp and a towel lays on the floor behind her where she must have dropped it in her excitement. A tiny drops of water drips from the loose tendrils. He really does try to keep his eyes up but the glimpse of her bare shoulder drags them down. She in a sports bra and the deep grey utility trousers the civvie mechanics favored. There’s miles of soft skin between the two and he can’t help the way his eyes go wide trying to take it all in.

“Eyes up here big guy.” 

They snap up and he catches the easy smile that graces her rounded face, dark eyes sparkle with laughter. 

“You guys know each other?” 

Wrecker had forgotten _Ik’aad_ was in the room.

“Kellye-“

“Wrecker-“

They both try to speak at once and break off with a laugh together.

“I took care of the _Marauder_ back on Felucia” Kellye explains. “We got to know each other really well, didn’t we big guy?”

Wrecker wiggles a brow, “not good enough.”

She shoots him a wink that has him grinning from ear to ear. Kriff, he’s missed her. Kellye was, without a doubt, the best mechanic the _Havoc Marauder_ ever had but she was so much more. She was a warm face to greet them post mission. She was a drinking buddy in the hangar when he needed to blow off some steam. She was… She was probably just about his favorite person outside his vode. 

“Stars! This is so crazy! Who would have known? Small galaxy, right?” _Ik'aad’s_ usual perk on full display.

Kellye laughs “Small army is more like it.” 

Wrecker watches her turn and scoop up her towel off the ground. She uses it to squeeze at her damp hair. He can’t help but watch her as she grabs a shirt laying across her bunk and pulls it over her head. She’d gotten a new bit of ornamentation since Felucia, the little metallic ring peeking out of her septum flashes in the light. It looked good on her. The tank top she’d pulled on looked good on her too. Frag it everything did and there wasn’t one person on this base that could tell him otherwise.

“You know” _Ik’aad_ says pulling his attention back. Her box of candy sits on her hip as she cocks her head to the side “she wasn’t the surprise.”

Wrecker catches her knowing look as it darts from him to her roommate. 

“No?” he says closing the distancing and grabbing a star cherry chew sticking from the corner of the box. “She was the better one.” He clarifies taking a bite while the two women laugh


	13. Part VII

_It’s been too long and I’ve got to apologize. It’s been a lot adjusting to the new base but I feel like I’m finally getting my footing. I’ve taken your advice. I’ve been working on making friends. I feel like it’s going well for the most part. Some are a little standoffish but it’s nothing I can’t overcome, right?_

_In other news, I did a thing. I think you’ll be surprised! You like surprises right? So….anyway…I passed my FAS test!. You know how hard I’ve been studying? Honestly, I was scared. I really could have used a study buddy but this really nice guy I know gave me some extra study materials and they were perfect. Now all I have to do is brush up at the range and I’m good to go! Can you believe that? It’s like a dream!_

_While I’m on the subject of dreams… I’ve been thinking about you. Well, you and me. Us? I guess what I’m trying to say is I think I deserve a reward for all my hardwork and I really want to see you. Please? Pretty please?_

_I know I won’t have leave for a while but my new roommate has a holoprojector and maybe we could just do that? I don’t want to push but I’ve been so patient and…_

_You know what? Nevermind. I don’t want to push. Just write back soon, ok?_

_Yours,_

_Grutababy._

_——-_

It’s hard to look at her sometimes Tech thinks as he, again, reads her latest message spread through his visor. It’s a rambling note that makes his heart squeeze tight and his eyes dart to his left guiltily after each line. Now that he knows her he can hear her voice, how she emphasized certain words, how her smile dazzled when she turned in on him full force.

Yeah, it’s hard to look at her when she does that.

It’s even harder not too when she’s sitting just feet from him, ribbing at Crosshair who is attempting and failing to hide his amusement.

“So exactly how far away would I have to get before you couldn’t peg me with this fork?” She asks holding up the utensil.

Wrecker chokes out a laugh, “Please, _Ik’aad_. Don’t ever say that again.”

“Say what?” Her brows knit together in soft confusion.

_I want to see you. Please?_

“Shut up, Wrecker.” The sniper growls as he himself bites off a laugh. _Ik’aad_ shoots a worried look between the pair, pulling her lower lip between her teeth and worrying it in a way Tech finds incredibly distracting.

“Don’t act like you weren’t thinking-“

_I’ve been thinking about you_

“Could one of you explain what’s so funny?” She asks, exacerbation creeping into her voice as she sets her mug down. Caf sloshes against the sides of it.

“It’s nothing _Ik’aad_ ” Crosshair tries to sooth her. He’s shit at it. Regardless she bites back a shy smile.

Tech wonders when their sniper had started thawing to the medic. He’d watched the other day as he’d walked a few steps behind her from the mess back to the med bay with Echo. He’d seen the sharp looks he’d given to the few Regs who’d given their little medic appreciative looks and how his hand had hovered over his blaster in threat. Tech wondered how much of it had to do with the his request to tag his mystery woman a week prior.

“How did your test go?” Crosshair asks changing the topic with a practiced nonchalance.

_I passed my FAS test! I think I deserve a reward. You know how hard I’ve been studying!_

Any residual confusion falls away and her face lights up. She’s radiant and Tech has to bite his tongue from telling her as much.

“Passed with flying colors.” Her chest puffs with pride as his vode make a big show of it. Hunter gives her a soft congratulations.

Crosshair pats her back and mentions something about letting her get her hands on _Sweetie_.

Wrecker wraps a meaty arm around her shoulders and pulls her tight. The tiny Togruta leans into his embrace happily. Than they all look at Tech, his vode with knowing looks and Y/N with a bright smile.

_Some are a little standoffish but it’s nothing I can’t overcome, right?_

He hates it when she does that. Well- hate isn’t exactly the correct word. He would pay his entire monthly stipend to get lost in those pale blues. Like a cloudless sky on Yavin-4 they’re bright and hopeful and- they’re everything .

And he is still just Tech.

Why did who he was bother him? He hasn’t felt like this since Kamino, not since he’d found his vode and his place in the world. Maybe with Ik'aad he didn’t know where he fit. With his brothers he knew where he stood. He had purpose. He was the problem solver, the one that thought outside the box to make sure the mission was a success. Ik'aad wasn’t a mission. He didn’t need to fix her. She was perfect just the way she was and-

“Tech gave me the study guide.” She explains not looking away from him. He’d gotten too caught up in his own thoughts. He flips his visor up. It would be rude not too and he can see Hunter giving him a look. He swallows his nerves and offers a half smile she’ll never see through his helmet.

“It was nothing.” He brushes it off.

I _really could have used a study buddy but this really nice guy I know gave me some extra study materials and they were perfect._

All eyes are on him. Wrecker leans forward like he’s waiting for the younger clone to say something else, anything.

“Congratulations.”

He watches her wait for a few beats. She wants him to say something more and he lets her down by flipping his visor down and turning back to the letter she’d sent him.

Like a coward.

He’ll lay in his rack later, when everyone else is asleep and replay this. He’ll rewrite the script and this time he’ll be smooth and say the right things. Be the right guy. He won’t make the mistake a second time. Next time he will seize the day..

——

_Hey Sweetheart. Let me start by saying how proud of you I am. I knew you could do it. You’re ability to adapt and thrive has always amazed me. You’re truly so much more than meets the eye. I’ve put much thought into your proposition. I also have access to a holoprojector and I would love to see you too. There’s so many things I need to tell you. There are things you need to know about me. I look forward to hearing from you with bated breath._

_Sincerely,_

_Tech-vod_


End file.
